A Gideon handed out Bibles in my second grade class. Back then I thought it was a holy book, filled with mysteries and wonder. Not that I read it, of course. The little orange book was the entire New Testament preserved on unimaginably thin pages. King James version, of course. Although I thumbed through it quite a few times, for some reason the only verse I remember reading was John 3:16. I memorized that one. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.
I took a different path, and decades of skepticism and atheism followed. Occasionally I’d skim through the Bible looking for a verse or two that could demonstrate how full of nonsense it really was. I approached the book arrogantly, holding tight to my preconceptions. I found in it exactly what I wanted to find, as long as I didn’t dig too deep.
Somehow, against all expectation and probability, I found Christ at 32. The most dramatic piece of the story is that it didn’t conform to any stereotype I always claimed brought people to faith. I wasn’t at rock bottom. There was no personal crisis. Life made sense and I wasn’t looking for a crutch. I didn’t do it for the kids. I just stumbled into the presence of God and couldn’t look away. Not long after, I returned to the Word with determination and intentionality. And now, here I stand.
Hundreds of years ago, many brave men and women did the same. Opening Bibles, they dropped presuppositions and allowed themselves to be transformed by the Word of God. Countless brave souls gave their lives for the truth they discovered. Once touched by the Word, they simply could not turn back. Many echoed the words of Polycarp, who when threatened with death replied, “Eighty and six years have I served Christ, nor has He ever done me any harm. How, then, could I blaspheme my King who saved Me?”
Today we commemorate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation. Before there were hammers and theses, there was an opening of the Word. Although a trained Augustinian monk, reading the book of Romans transformed his world. Like many before (Waldo, Hus, Wycliffe, and so many more) and many since, humbly seeking God through His inerrant and preserved Word changed the trajectory of that young monk’s life. It changed the course of history as well.
I’ve been reading, studying, meditating on, and teaching the Bible for about a decade now. I don’t claim that it’s easy or obvious, but this book and this pursuit has been nothing less than transformational. I don’t claim to have changed history, but my time in the Word has transformed my marriage, family, community, and myself. It has lead me into experiences more deep, rich, and joyful than any from my first 32 years of life. It has sustained me during unspeakable hurt and tragedy. Here I stand. I can do no other. I long for everyone to experience this as well.
Today, while many around the world commemorate the 500th anniversary of the beginning of the reformation, join me in spending time in the Word. Whatever your belief system or worldview, grab a Bible (or Bible app) and turn to Luke. The first couple of chapters are familiar and will go quickly. You can read the entire book in a couple of hours, or break it up over a couple of days. But read it. Let go of assumptions and read it with fresh eyes. And please, ask me questions. I love questions.
They were brothers and sisters joining me on a journey, each with inherent dignity and value. Even the words I wrote and lessons I taught were fountains of awe and wonder, not because of my own insights and efforts, but instead with the ultimate source of it all. God.
or when I capture a sunset. I remember it when I read the Word without expectation. It happens when I notice.
“Grace, Truth, & Coffee,” our conversations are shaped by grace. We may explore hard or controversial subjects, but we do so with grace. Grace shapes communities and changes lives.